


do, re, mi

by orphan_account



Series: oumonth 2020 [4]
Category: danganronpa v3 - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Talentswap (Dangan Ronpa), Classical Music, Fluff, Gen, Music, Musical References, Piano, a tiny lil bit of angst, at the end, bc i can only write angst angst angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24676441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: So in light of this niceness - he plays and he plays and he plays, piece after piece. Suggestions are thrown in and by the time the group is ambling back to their rooms, long past the night time announcement, his fingers are sore and tired - and he smiles.He smiles. Because for once in this god-awful killing game, Ouma feels a small sort of placidity creep up his spine.If only that could last forever.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede & Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi & Momota Kaito & Harukawa Maki & K1-B0 (Danganronpa)
Series: oumonth 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768354
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18
Collections: Kokichi Ouma Month





	do, re, mi

**Author's Note:**

> i hate this so much but day 6 - talentswap au/friendship
> 
> removed a few days that i didnt feel like doing or couldn't come up with any ideas for,,,, hfdj so if there's skips between days i'm sorry aha-
> 
> i just. can't write straight fluff. writing escapes me when i do and i'm just like: "why must i always have to make characters suffer so i can write something and like it"
> 
> uhgdfsk i REALLY hate this but. it's something- i guess. fkdsjg i'm upset with how this turned out but oh well,,, my head has only been filled with angsty aus so i mean. that might be why- uh, have fun with this i guess-

* * *

If you were to ask Ouma what he would end up doing that day, teaching the remaining survivors how to play piano would definitely not be what he would have said.

Lips curled into a grimace, Ouma can only watch as Momota’s fingers linger on the keys a bit too long. They’re sloppy - and although Momota definitely isn’t a pianist, like him, he certainly wasn’t cut out to be one. “Momota, you’re doing it wrong again.” He sighs, hand dragging down the side of his face. “Really, how the _ hell  _ can’t you play something as _ simple _ as the  _ Alphabet Song  _ ?” Ouma really can’t comprehend how the inventor could fuck up something as easy as that, not at all.

Akamatsu smiles from beside him when Momota huffs. “Can I try?” She asks, magenta eyes alight with curiosity. Her rose-pigmented cape flows behind her when he nods, RUffled when she sits at the sleek bench. Momota reluctantly steps away, and Ouma can spot Saihara comforting him out of the corner of his eye. “I had a little bit of experience with the piano before, so I could probably do okay.”

Ouma nods slowly, then turns to one of the shelves, sifting through folders of sheet music. When his violet eyes land on the yellowed pages of  _ Canon in D, _ they light up. “Jeez, haven’t played this song in forever.” Akamatsu cocks her head, standing up to look over his shoulder.

“ _ Pachabel  _ ?” She inquires, that light tone of voice making him snort.

“I mean yeah, it literally says it in the corner. I’ll have to see if my muscle memory is good enough to play this without butchering it.” Ouma plucks the pages out of the folder, tucking said folder back into the confines of the shelf. Idabashi has looked up since then, fixing the tie of his uniform and blinking up at him and the piano. Harukawa looks over too, as do Saihara and Momota, and it feels like Ouma’s in the concert hall all over again.

He places the piece on the piano carefully, as if afraid it would crumple under the slightest touch, and sits on the bench - taking the spot where Akamatsu and Momota once sat. He almost snorts when recalling that Akamatsu was too curious and didn’t end up playing, but maybe they could do that another day. Ouma shoots a look at the clock before splaying his hands out, listening as Akamatsu pulls out a different folder and begins combing through each piece, her attention divided between Ouma and the notes on the pages in her arms.

And then music fills the room, the simple and languid melody of  _ Pachabel’s _ creation fluttering from the piano and resonating within everyone’s ears. Ouma hits every note perfectly, keeping the smooth flow of the song throughout its entirety. When he finished, Akamatsu holds up another sheet, her smile excited and bright. “Ouma-kun! Didn’t you say something about  _ Clair De Lune once  _ ?” He looks over at the sheet, eyes lingering on the title before a smile curls his lips upward.

“Yep! That’s it alright!” Akamatsu bounces on her feet when he plucks the music sheets from her hands, setting it over Canon in D. His fingers splay out again, before they hit notes and octaves - and get louder and softer. Ouma thinks that at this moment in time, the remaining survivors are at their most peaceful. It’s nice, really, to not be arguing and debating across podiums that glitter blue under fluorescent lights.

So in light of this niceness - he plays and he plays and he plays, piece after piece. Suggestions are thrown in and by the time the group is ambling back to their rooms, long past the night time announcement, his fingers are sore and tired - and he smiles.

He smiles. Because for once in this god-awful killing game, Ouma feels a small sort of placidity creep up his spine.

If only that could last forever.


End file.
